PATIENT CARE (Medical Romance) (Doctor Series)

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PATIENT CARE (Medical Romance) (Doctor Series) Page 9

by Bobby Hutchinson


  Betsy talked about James the whole way. She’d fallen under his spell. “If only your poor father could have had a doctor like him, he’d still be here today,” she declared. “He’s in love with you, Lissa. He all but told me so. He’s a fine man. Don’t you chew him up and spit him out like you’ve done with all the others.”

  Melissa gaped at her mother, indignant. “I’ve never done any such thing. And when did James tell you—”

  Betsy paid no attention. “You have your career. Now it’s time you thought about a husband and a family. I’m not getting any younger, you know, and I’d like a grandchild to spoil before I lose all my marbles. I get good and fed up with Gladys bragging all the time about her grandkids.”

  Melissa was shocked. Betsy had never even hinted at this before. Maybe her having been close to death had brought this on, Melissa thought after she’d gotten her mother settled in Gladys’s care and was heading back to St. Joe’s.

  Had James actually told Betsy he loved her?

  Betsy had said he all but had, whatever that meant.

  Melissa hadn’t dared put a name on what she felt for James.

  She probed at it now, like poking a tongue at a new filling.

  It didn’t hurt at all when she realized she’d fallen in love.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Melissa savored the sensation during the days that followed, although she didn’t see much of James; he was either in the OR or at his office with patients. They did spend the nights together, and that was more than enough.

  That they were both busy was good; Melissa had tons of work to catch up on, and to know that James was as overwhelmed as she was was comforting.

  The afternoon finally arrived when she was finished at five. Filled with excitement, she called James to invite him for a walk in the park. They could stop at his favorite vendor and have fish and chips, and there was that little place on Denman that made homemade ice cream.

  The front desk patched the call through to the OR. Melissa could hear soft music playing, voices in the background, the metallic click of instruments.

  “Sorry, Melissa, I just can’t make it.” He sounded apologetic but cheerful. “I’m in the middle of reaming out a prostate, and then I promised the cardiac resident I’d scrub with him on an angioplasty. Can I have a rain check till tomorrow?’ ’

  Of course he could. Who understood better than Melissa the pressures that work could impose? She went home and cleaned out her closets.

  A spectacular four-car crash the following afternoon brought a contrite phone call from James. He was up to his elbows in punctured lungs and compound fractures. He’d be at St. Joe’s until the early hours, and looking at his schedule, the next couple of days were going to be frantic. He’d best sleep at his own apartment rather than wake her in the middle of the night. He apologized and, voice pitched low, told her what he intended to do to her when they were next together.

  Melissa appreciated his creativity and his thoughtfulness. She had her hair trimmed, her legs waxed, her nails manicured. She even went for a massage, to a woman Arlene recommended. But instead of feeling relaxed, she came out anxious, and the feeling intensified as the long spell of hot weather broke and Vancouver weather returned to normal. The skies opened and raindrops bounced on sidewalks. Umbrellas bloomed like flowers.

  Melissa went to visit Betsy, but Gladys had moved in on a semi-permanent basis, and Melissa had grown weary of the friendly bickering between the two older women.

  On Thursday evening James called and asked her formally for a date on Friday. He’d cleared his calendar; they’d go somewhere elegant. But Melissa thought it over and decided she wanted something different. The weather was cool enough to light the fireplace. Maybe a quiet, passionate evening alone with him would banish this heaviness she couldn’t seem to shake.

  “I’ve never cooked for you, have I?”

  “I didn’t know you could.”

  She didn’t know if she still could, either, it had been so long. “You don’t know half my talents. Come over at six. I’ll impress and amaze you.”

  She canceled an afternoon meeting with the patient advocate and raced through Granville Market, buying Caspian Sea caviar and fresh West Coast salmon, imported Peruvian wine, tiny red potatoes, pistachio nuts, blueberries, crusty bread rolls. At home, groceries unloaded, she flipped through cookbooks and made zucchini bisque with curry and cream, beet and jicama salad, and a lemon tart topped with blueberries and roasted pistachio nuts. Feeling like a heroine, she scrubbed the potatoes and put them on to steam, turned the oven on for the salmon and laid the table, using the crocheted cloth and linen napkins her mother had given her. She lit the fireplace and glanced at the clock.

  There was just time for a quick shower. She washed her hair and left it down to curl around her shoulders, as she pulled on her only set of matching black underwear and an emerald-green rayon dress cut too low in the bosom to wear to the office. She hadn’t worn the dress for a while, and it felt snug around her hips. It must have shrunk last time she’d had it dry-cleaned.

  But she couldn’t worry about that now, because the buzzer sounded, and then she was in James’s arms. He brought her coral-colored lilies and white wine and a small box of the best chocolates in the city. She had to put the flowers on a side table so they wouldn’t get crushed as he hugged her. His kiss sent her heart soaring, and she had to restrain his hands or she’d get distracted and dinner would be ruined.

  “You are so beautiful in that dress.”

  “Thanks.” She flushed with pleasure and reluctantly broke away when he kissed her again. “Take your raincoat off, and come and open the wine. I’ll serve the soup and put the flowers in a bowl.”

  They were a breathtaking centerpiece, and when she tasted the soup, even she thought it was delicious.

  “I can’t believe you made this. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten.” He spooned up the bisque, finished his bowl and asked for another.

  “Flatterer.” But she felt pleased with herself. Cooking for him tonight had been a good idea. The rain sleeted against the windows, the fireplace gave off a warm glow, the soft music she’d chosen created a relaxed ambience. And they had time to talk, to catch up on the things they hadn’t had a chance to share.

  “Rudy called the office. He and Thelma want us to come to dinner a week from tomorrow.”

  “Arlene had pains in her back all afternoon. I told her to go home, but she wouldn’t listen. Maybe the baby’ll arrive this weekend. I can’t wait to see what her little one looks like.”

  He followed Melissa into the kitchen when the timer for the salmon sounded. She arranged the fish on a serving platter and surrounded it with snow peas and the steamed tiny red potatoes, while he made appreciative comments.

  He wasn’t much help, but she loved having him there.

  And then his pager went off. He didn’t have to tell her it was St. Joe’s. A kind of numbness overtook her as he dialed the phone, identified himself, listened for a few moments and said in a brisk tone, “I’ll be right there.” He hung up and turned to Melissa with an apologetic look.

  “I’m so sorry about dinner, love. There’s been a shootout between two motorcycle gangs. They need me in the OR.” He was already at the door, shrugging into his raincoat. “I’ll call as soon as I get a chance.”

  He kissed her, but it seemed to her an absent kiss. His mind was already at the hospital.

  The door closed behind him, and Melissa felt like kicking it. She wanted to scream and throw herself on the floor and have the kind of tantrum she’d enjoyed when she was three. Instead, she ripped open the chocolates James had brought and viciously bit into one. The first led to a second and then a third, but she still felt empty inside. The feeling of anxiety that had plagued her the past week returned full force. Maybe she ought to go to bed and read.

  She turned off the gas fireplace and the lights, leaving the dishes and the food where they were, and put on an old pair of flannel pajamas. Steeling hers
elf, she stepped on the bathroom scales. She’d avoided weighing herself, knowing she’d probably gained a pound or two thanks to the food she’d eaten at Rudy’s trailer.

  She gasped in horror as the needle swept up and up. She’d gained nine pounds. How could that be? She should have lost weight. She’d lost her heart, hadn’t she? Surely a heart weighed something. She crept into her bedroom. The stuffed toy horse James had given her was sitting on her dresser, along with the card. Until the real thing comes along, he’d written. She’d been deluding herself into believing James was the real thing.

  It was time to take a look at facts she’d been avoiding the way she’d avoided the scales. She got a piece of paper and a pen.

  James was a workaholic; surgery would always come first with him.

  If the choice was between her career and his, he’d expect his to take precedence.

  She’d been assuming they had a relationship. He’d never once told her he cared about her.

  Sooner or later, she was going to gain twenty pounds and tell him it was over.

  It might as well be now; she only had eleven more pounds to go.

  The telephone rang, and she snatched it up, knowing it was James. She would read him her list and end the relationship right now. That way she could start a rigorous diet in the morning.

  “Melissa?” The voice was male, but it wasn’t James’s. This guy sounded on the verge of hysteria, voice trembling, tears threatening.

  “Melissa, it’s Frank O’Connor, Arlene’s husband? We just had a baby girl. She’s so beautiful. Arlene’s fine. She was such a trooper. Labor’s a bitch, isn’t it? She says to come over right away and see the baby before our daughter starts to age.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  James finished stapling the ends of the bowel. He’d had to excise an entire segment of it. The bullet had entered the patient’s belly and ricocheted off a rib into the small intestine.

  “This young man’s lucky to be alive,” James remarked. “He’s also lucky he won’t have a colostomy bag for the rest of his life. Another inch and that bullet would have ripped into the large intestine.”

  The tension had eased in the OR when it became obvious nothing was going to go wrong. Mozart was playing, and the circulating nurse and the scrub tech were talking about a dress one of them had bought on sale.

  James turned to the intern. “You want to try your hand at closing, Dr. Gatz?”

  The young woman’s eyes dilated behind her mask, and her voice shook a little.

  “Yes, please, Dr. Burke.”

  A strained silence fell, and James caught the apprehensive look two orderlies exchanged as Gatz dropped two needle holders in a row. James knew they expected him to explode, to chastise the intern, to launch into an impassioned lecture about competency and standards and bungling ineptitude. A short time ago that’s just what he would have done.

  Tonight, however, the gaffes didn’t seem important. He waited patiently until Gatz had found her rhythm and gained a measure of confidence. Then he quietly made several suggestions, and complimented her when the job was done.

  Instrument, sponge and needle count completed, James thanked his team and headed out to tell the young man’s distraught father that his son would live. He smiled into the older man’s dark eyes and put a hand on his shoulder, and when the man burst into tears, James offered tissues and a sympathetic ear.

  In the surgeons’ locker room, he shucked off his scrubs and stepped into the shower, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

  The operation had been a success, but his usual elation just wasn’t there. He kept seeing Melissa’s lovely face, and the disappointment in her hazel eyes when the call had come from St. Joe’s.

  Something Rudy had said popped into his mind and lodged there.

  Plumbing don’t come close to being with Thelma.

  The moment at hand was mind-boggling and life changing, but once he got it straight, James knew that he was on the right track. Surgery didn’t come close to being with Melissa. He wanted more, and less. More time with Melissa, less time operating.

  More open space, less restriction.

  More impulsiveness, less caution.

  Less single life. More—he had to take a deep breath, because the idea made him dizzy. More—marriage? It was a big concept. He breathed it in, tried it on for size, and after a few moments of getting used to it, he knew marriage sounded exactly right.

  Elated, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, just as the door to the locker room flew open and Frank O’Connor burst in. He had a box of cigars under his arm and a frenzied look in his eye. He didn’t seem to notice that James was buck-naked.

  “We just had a baby,” he crowed, digging out a cigar from the box and shoving it at James. “Seven-ten, first Apgar nine-and-a-half. She’s got my ears.”

  “Poor kid,” James said with a grin, sticking the cigar behind his own ear. “Never mind, the plastics people can do wonders these days.” He wound a towel around himself and then clapped O’Connor on the shoulder. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you, and more than a little jealous.” “Drop down to Maternity and have a look at her, why don’t you. Melissa’s there with Arlene. I’m gonna have to get back to the ER. Brulotte’s covering for me, but we’re shorthanded tonight. I hear they’ve hired two new ER docs from England. Wish they’d get here so I could have a few days off.” He gave James a resounding slap on his bare shoulder and hurried out the door.

  Melissa is here, at St. Joe’s. Suddenly, everything seemed to be falling into place. James hurried over to his locker and pulled on his clothes. He needed to talk to her, right now, while the whole thing was clear in his head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “She’s an angel.” Melissa cradled the baby, letting the tears slide down her cheeks. “I’m just so ha-happy for you.” She was. She just couldn’t stop crying.

  “Here—” Arlene handed her a tissue. “Before you drown her.”

  “Thanks.” Melissa gave the baby to her mother and headed into the bathroom to wash her face. “Sorry, Arlene,” she called through the door.

  “This isn’t just sympathy over my agonizing labor, right?” Arlene yelled from the bed.

  Melissa pictured her propped on pillows, wearing a scarlet satin robe from Victoria’s Secret. Her hair was brushed, her makeup intact, her pretty face serene. It was hard to believe she’d just given birth.

  “What’s wrong? I’ll bet it’s—”

  Melissa heard Arlene’s voice change.

  “Hi there, James. We were just talking about you. Melissa’s in the bathroom. She’ll be right out. Here, want to hold the baby?”

  Horrified, Melissa heard James making admiring noises.

  What the hell was he doing here? She did not want to see him. Not now.

  She didn’t want him to see her, either. A glance in the mirror made her shudder. Her eyes were swollen and her hair was a disaster. Her freckles stood out in sharp relief. She’d pulled on an old yellow sweat suit, and the color made her look as if she had malaria. Her purse, with her lipstick and comb, was out there beside Arlene’s bed.

  But she couldn’t hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Could she?

  She drew in a deep breath and tried to gather the tattered shreds of her dignity.

  “Hello, James.” She tried for a smile and missed by a mile. “Isn’t she something?”

  He was holding the baby, but he wasn’t looking at the infant. He was staring at Melissa, and she must look even worse than she’d imagined, because his expression was peculiar.

  “Could I talk to you for a moment?” He shoved the baby into Arlene’s arms and headed for the door. When Melissa didn’t immediately follow, he turned. “Please? I need to talk to you in private, Melissa.” There was humble entreaty in his tone.

  “Go, go.” Arlene shooed her. “You can tell me afterward what he says,” she stage-whispered with a wicked grin.

  The corridor outside Arlene’s room
was bustling with terrified fathers and ecstatic grandmothers and busy staff. James took Melissa’s hand and dragged her along, peering into rooms until he finally found an empty one. He held the door and used a hand on her back to all but shove her inside.

  “For heaven’s sake, James.” Exasperated, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “First you ruin a dinner I labored over, and now you drag me away from the baby. This just proves that nothing will ever work between us.” She scowled at him. “You’re totally inconsiderate and selfish.” She hadn’t planned on dumping him tonight; she’d planned to be calm and dressed in one of Barry’s ensembles when she did it. A loose one, considering what she weighed. But what the heck, she might as well get this over with now.

  He looked contrite. “I’m sorry about the dinner. I should have arranged for someone else to take my calls tonight. I will next time. I promise.”

  He reached out for her, and Melissa backed up. She could get through this, but only if she didn’t let him touch her. Why hadn’t she brought her list to the hospital?

  “There isn’t going to be a next time, James. I don’t want to see you anymore.” She tried to draw a deep breath, but it felt as if there was a rock stuck in her rib cage.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He was annoyed now; she could see by the way his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened.

  “I’ve decided we should get married. Not right now, but after we’ve been together a few months. After we know each other better. Although, we do know each other pretty well already.”

  “Married?” She was stunned and aghast. And when it fully hit her, she was also furious. “How dare you tell me such a thing, instead of asking, the way any decent, civilized man would do? And I won’t marry you, so don’t bother asking. You don’t need a wife, James. Your work is your wife. There’s no room for a real live woman.”

 

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